Too Cold
by Pallet and Cerulean
Summary: When Akihito disappears, Mirai can't help but to go look for him.


Rhythmic footsteps muffled in the thick blanket of snow, Mirai ran down side streets and alleys, working her way through town. Fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily around her, falling to pile in sloping drifts. It would have been quite atmospheric in the quiet city if she hadn't been so worried. After Akihito had shifted to his youmu form, it had taken the efforts of several spirit warriors to keep him contained. No one had seen him since.

Mirai had asked Mitsuki and Hiromi about it, but they didn't seem too worried. They explained that he had a habit of disappearing after instances like that. But, with him having been missing for over a week, Mirai couldn't push away the concern that clouded her mind. She kept running, breathing heavily with the cold air stinging her lungs, searching for Akihito's familiar face.

Turning a corner, Mirai cane sliding to a stop, kicking the fluffy snow up in a fine spray in front of her. Down at the end of the street, she spotted Akihito, sitting with his back to the brick wall of the small bakery that edged the alley. Bending with her hands on her knees, Mirai tried to catch her breath, soothing the ache in her lungs. A moment later, she straightened, walking to meet Akihito. Stopping just in front of him, she knelt down in the powdery snow.

Placing her hands gently on the tops of his knees, which were pulled up to his chest, Mirai noticed he was shivering, trembling in the cold. His skin was pale, nearly white, and his lips had lost their color, turning a pale purple. Though, what bothered her the most were his eyes, looking glassy and distant, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Senpai?" Mirai asked quietly, trying to get his attention. When he ignored her, eyes flicking down to the snow beside him, she let out a quiet huff. Without thinking, she tugged off her scarf, gently wrapping it around Akihito's neck, trying to keep him warm.

"Don't," Akihito muttered, voice gravelly and raw.

Confused, Mirai blinked back at him but didn't take her scarf back. Instead, she just let her hands fall back to his knees, sitting quietly in front of him.

"I said don't!" Akihito spat back vehemently, though his words lacked their intended malice, sounding broken. Pulling off the scarf, he tossed it back at her. "Don't be so nice to me," he said quietly, defeated. "I don't deserve it."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Mirai assured gingerly. She reached up to brush away the snow that had collected on his head, sticking in his hair. Her hand lingered for a moment too long before she caught herself, pulling it back.

"I've caused so much trouble," Akihito said, disregarding Mirai's words. "It's just a matter of time before I do something worse. Before I hurt people, before I kill people." His voice had grown somber and dark, twisting into something Mirai had scarcely heard from him.

"I can hardly stand myself," he said.

Throwing herself onto him, Mirai wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in the crook of his neck. "Don't say that!" she insisted, her breath hot against the exposed skin of his neck. "Please don't say that," Mirai said again, calmer this time, too genuine. Bringing her gaze up, teary-eyed, to meet Akihito's, she gave him a pleading look, lips turned down into a sad frown.

"You mean everything to me," Mirai said, almost desperately, willing him to see his worth.

Feeling a warmth spread through him, one that could almost match the wicked cold outside, Akihito brought a hand up to Mirai's head, affectionately ruffling her hair. "Thank you," he said quietly, taking in the weight of her words. He offered a weak smile, her kindness having bitten some through the thick haze in his mind, always telling him he's nothing more than wasted space.

Sharing her own bittersweet smile, Mirai eased herself off of Akihito, standing up beside him. She brushed the heavy snow from her clothes, fingers starting to feel numb in the chilly air. Feeling in her fingers or not, Mirai extended a hand to Akihito. His skin felt icy against her palm as he took her hand, pulling himself up. She hesitantly let go of his hand, worries of frostbite lingering in her mind.

"Now, can we please go somewhere warmer?" Mirai questioned, gazing pointedly at Akihito.

Looking almost sheepish, a twinge of a genuine smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah," he replied lightly, "let's go."


End file.
